


The Way Out

by the_only_education_worth_having



Category: CSI: NY, Loosely Fandom Related, Original Work, ish - Fandom
Genre: Affairs, Crime Family, Detectives, F/M, Gen, Murder, Mystery, Organized Crime, Trials, mob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_only_education_worth_having/pseuds/the_only_education_worth_having
Summary: Like all good stories this starts with a murder.But it's much, much more than that.





	The Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked for a detective story/CSI NY story. This will be about my own story but will tie in Flack and my OC.

‘Alright, so what have we got?’ Flack asked with a yawn as he stood next to the uniformed officer who was standing next to the freshly hung crime scene tape that covered the door. He rubbed his weary eyes. It was 7:30 am and no sooner had he landed at work than the first case had been dumped on his desk. He’d was tired but nevertheless had raised himself from his desk, although reluctantly, got into his car and driven across town to see what this shift had to offer. The uniformed office looked at him and said, ‘Possible 4-19. An anonymous caller phoned it in.’

The officer gulped as he finished speaking. Flack’s trained eye ran over him. The cop was young, just out of the academy if he had to guess. He looked pale in the early morning light and in Flack’s honest opinion as if he were about to throw up.  
‘You alright bud?’ Flack chuckled  
‘F-fine. It’s just…the smell.’  
‘Yeah, that’ll get you. First homicide?’  
‘Yeah,’ the officer admitted bashfully. Flack smiled as he moved under the police tape on the door and into the room. It was a small apartment. From what it looked like one bedded. The living room made up most of the apartment. It was of basic design and its contents were made up of only a small TV, a couch and a solitary bookshelf. The main feature of the room now was the victim.

He was sat upon a chair in the centre of the room. His arms were limp by his side and his head was slumped onto his chest. Blood caked his whole torso, making what looked to be a once white shirt dark crimson. It had pooled around the bottom of the chair, covering the gun that had dropped underneath it. Flack moved around the apartment looking for any identifiers. No keys or wallet on the counters or in the bowl by the door. No letters that he could find.

‘Hey, erm...’ Flack said with a wince as he found he didn’t know the kid’s name. Still, the officer turned to look into the apartment, his eyes wide and eager at the prospect of helping the detective, ‘What’s your name?’  
‘Dan.’  
‘Hey Dan, you check for an ID?’  
‘No s-sir. I left the scene untouched, I just taped it up and waited for homicide. Should I have?’  
‘It’s no big deal,’ said Flack. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves. Snapping them on he moved toward the body and felt the pockets of the jeans the body was wearing. The wallet was wedged in the victims back pocket and so Flack had to force his weight up to retrieve it. Just as he got it out there was a noise from the door and Flack looked up to find his good friend and fellow detective Danny Messer, stood there with his CSI kit in hand.  
‘Hey Flack,’ Danny greeted, his eyes taking in the scene, then he said with a chuckle, ‘you done touching the dead guys ass?’  
‘Nice to see you too Danny,’ Flack chuckled as he flipped open the wallet and looked at the ID that lay inside it.  
‘Anthony Scott, 23 years old. This is his current address.’   
‘Well GSW is obvious COD. Self-inflicted or homicide is the question. Gun’s still here so could be either. Neighbours call it in?’ Danny said as he moved around the apartment, camera in hand.   
‘Anonymous call.’  
‘Really? Call me biased but that’s steering me towards homicide straight off the bat.’  
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m going to go knock on a few doors, see what people saw.’  
‘I can tell you now it’ll be a whole bunch of nothing.’

‘Yeah, probably,’ Flack said as he placed the wallet on the side for Danny to bag and left the room. Officer Dan’s colour seemed to have returned somewhat but still appeared uneasy. Flack moved away from him down the drab corridor until he reached a door exactly the same as the one he had just been through. He knocked and waited for a response. He heard movement on the other side of the door, coming towards him until finally, the door opened a crack to reveal a balding, middle-aged man dressed in just his underwear. 

‘Excuse me, sir, I’m a detective from the NYPD, do you have a minute to talk?’  
The man eyed Flack wearily, before pulling the door open a tad farther and saying, ‘What?’  
‘You’re neighbour erm, Anthony Scott, was found dead in his apartment this morning. Do you know or did you maybe see or hear anything that could help us in our investigation?’  
‘No.’  
‘You didn’t see anyone or hear anything in the past couple of days.’  
‘Nope.’  
‘You sure.’  
‘Look Anthony keeps himself to himself. I see him in passing. The most I know about him is when I hear him and his girl going at it.’  
‘He has a girlfriend, you perhaps know what she looks like?’  
‘Nope. I’ve just heard a girl there couple nights a week that’s it.’  
‘Okay, thanks for your time,’ Flack said with a tight smile as the door shut abruptly in his face. He jotted some things in his notebook before moving towards the next door. He carried on like that for about an hour. Door to door. No one saw anything. No one heard anything. No one knew much about Anthony or his girlfriend. He even spoke with the building manager who was just about as useful as everyone else. 

Anthony was a good tenant. The only thing Flack found out was that Anthony kept to himself and paid his rent on time. No complaints about him. Was hardly ever around by all accounts. The apartment manager didn’t know where he worked or have any next of kin listed for him. His guarantor for the apartment was his 87-year-old grandmother who lives in Staten Island and he knew of no other family. Flack was running out of leads sooner than expected. Dejected he headed back towards the apartment to see what his friend had found. The room was littered with evidence markers and bags were gathered by the front door, containing what Flack assumed to be the evidence Danny had collected. 

‘Hey Dan, find anything?’  
‘Flack there you are. Actually, I think I did?’  
‘Yeah?’ Flack said moving into the room and watching as picked up a photo frame that had been tucked in between books on the bookshelves.   
‘Yeah, this guy is friends with the Byrne family. Flack, I think this was a mob hit.’


End file.
